‘Come on, Auntie Freya. Faster! Faster! You’re nearly as bad as Auntie Amy was. And Auntie Sheila. And Auntie Beth. And Auntie Monique. And Auntie Charlotte. And Auntie Christabel. And Auntie….’ She carried on reciting this list of names, with a speed that soon blurred all her words together.
She was some distance ahead now. All I could see were her naked legs below her cutoffs. I hurried after her. The list of names she had reeled off had reinforced Dylan’s promiscuity once again. And that I might be as ephemeral in E-J’s life as the rest had been. I couldn’t help thinking I should have had the foresight and courage to have resisted him, like Tara was doing.
I caught up with E-J at the top of the hill. I regarded the sudden edge and the gaping chasm of the old quarry below with fear. E-J was swinging around on a tree trunk, her outstretched legs hovering over the mighty drop.
I hurled myself towards her and clutched us together tightly against the tree. Then I pulled her away by the hand. We settled down on the grass some way back, but still with a good view of the crater.
‘You must be more careful, E-J! One slip and you’d’ve been over that edge. And I’d never’ve been able to forgive myself.’
E-J laughed at my sense of melodrama. She didn’t seem to have a concept of danger and I was becoming increasingly nervous. But she calmed down and did what she was told, alive to my mood.
‘There’s Mummy on the crag now.’
There was a group of three men at the foot of the far wall. Some way up the hundred-and-fifty-foot face was a slight figure, moving with cat-like stealth up the rock. Every now and then, she’d hang off and shout down instructions for certain moves to the men below. Then she’d fiddle with pieces of gear on her harness.
‘What’s she doing now?’ I asked.
‘She’s putting chocks or friends into the cracks. They come in various shapes and sizes. She’ll select the right one. Once in place she’ll first check it’s stable….yes, look she’s doing that now….then she’ll put the rope through the karabiner on the end.’
‘Why’s she need to do that?’
‘Well, silly, she’s lead climbing. There’s no top rope, so she’s being belayed from below. If she falls off, the pieces of gear she places in the rock are the only things that’ll protect her.’
‘What? You’ll not see me trust my life to such little bits of metal!’
‘The only thing that could go wrong is incorrectly placing them in the cracks. And Mummy knows what she’s doing.’
I could see that. Her movements were precise and systematic. She always kept three of the four points of contact with the rock. Every now and then she’d scoop a handful of chalk dust from a little bag on her harness to improve the grip.
E-J’s expert commentary filled in all the technical details for me. This enhanced my view of how she’d been steeped in climbing from early childhood. And its pseudo-adult delivery was typical of the precocity of an only child.
Janis was securing herself to a ledge a third of the way up the face. E-J explained she was setting up a belay to bring up the other climbers one at a time on a top rope. ‘Watch how the next climber’ll take out all the gear on the way up. Then he’ll possibly take over the lead for the next pitch. They’re on Trembling Fingers at the moment.’
‘Eh?’
‘Trembling Fingers – it’s the name of the climb. All of them have names. The first pitch was E1, but the later ones are HVS and VS.’
‘Sorry, you’ve lost me again.’
‘The later ones aren’t as hard. See that great crack above Mummy’s head?’ She waited for me to acknowledge. ‘Well, that’s where the route goes next. They’ll have to wedge themselves inside it.’
The wealth of detail and the speed of delivery were beginning to give me a headache. Still, we watched as each climber took turns to rise to Janis’s level. The second of the three crept upwards with mounting uncertainty.
There was something quite absorbing about watching their ascent. I began to see the fascination the sport held for its exponents, without ever wishing to take part myself. A couple of hours passed before the final climber was nearing the top of the cliff, after four pitches.
‘Come on, we better get going.’
I looked at E-J’s worried expression. ‘Why?’
‘’Cause Mummy ’n’ the men will be passing this point soon and I don’t want her to catch me up here.’ She was pointing to a dirt trod weaving through the stunted trees around the top of the jagged edge.
I needed no further encouragement to descend rapidly, after remembering Janis’s response to the cavern escapade.
Janis found us in the summerhouse. We had played hide-and-seek for an hour and I felt quite exhausted. I was nearly nodding off and E-J was reading, quiet for once. Only the clinking of the gear on her harness betrayed Janis’s approach.
I sat up and smiled as she appeared. She looked angered. I gazed up the lawn to where Tara was stood, arms folded, smiling smugly.
When Janis saw how well-behaved E-J was being her mood lightened. ‘Hi, Freya,’ she said, undoing and stepping out of her harness, then sitting down on the grass. ‘Hope my daughter hasn’t been too much of a handful.’
‘No, she’s been fine.’ I was building E-J’s defence as best I could, fearing the punishment that might be meted out.
E-J was quivering behind her book.
‘Come to me,’ was her mother’s stern command. ‘You may’ve been good for Freya, but Tara says you’ve run her ragged all morning. You know she’s had a lot to do today.’
‘Yes, Mummy.’ She climbed to her feet, resigned to her fate, and walked out of the summerhouse and past her mother. She bent herself over a log, which provided seating for a campfire, and began to fumble with her shorts, trembling.
Janis picked up a switch from behind the wooden building in preparation for her daughter’s punishment. Then she looked at me. ‘I think you’re partly to blame for this unruly behaviour. I know you were up on top of the quarry today. She knows not to go up there. And Tara told you to stay here and wait for me.’ She handed me the switch. ‘I think it only fair – you should punish her today.’
I stared at her, mouth agape in disbelief. Then I flexed the switch and looked at E-J. An expression of betrayal at my treachery was cast across her face.
‘Well,’ I said, finally summoning the strength to act. ‘If I’m in charge of her punishment today, we can do without this.’ I broke the switch in half over my knee and threw it into the brook. E-J smiled, watching its progress as it disappeared with the current.
‘Stand up, E-J. Don’t think you’re getting away with it.’ I hectored. ‘You can spend the rest of the day with Tara, helping her with all the chores.’ I called over to the young woman, who was looking on: ‘And make sure you give her some of the mucky jobs you hate.’
The scowl, which had appeared on Tara’s face when I’d refused the beating, quickly became a broad grin instead. ‘Oh, I’ve got plenty of those.’
‘Off you go, then, E-J. Make yourself useful. Mummy won’t want to see you till bedtime. And it’ll be an early bed at that.’
E-J moaned, kicking at a stone around the scorched earth of the campfire hearth. But she did as she was told and took off towards Tara.
When they were gone, Janis sat down beside me. She didn’t look very amused.
‘Let’s try things my way. See if we get anywhere.’
Janis sighed. ‘Well, she hasn’t thrown a tantrum, so that’s a start.’
‘If it doesn’t work, spank her later, if you must. But you’ll not see me doing something so cruel.’ My father used to beat me as a child; I could remember what it was like and couldn’t bear to inflict such pain on anyone else.
Janis was quiet for some time; such a contrast from the hours spent with her loquacious daughter. Finally, she poured herself a drink, then took off her rock boots. These were made of rubber and followed the contours of her feet, which aided the grip when climbing.
I noticed she had lost several toes from both feet. I cringed.
She twiddled her remaining toes and this broke her dismal mood. ‘Lost them to frostbite. Worth it though, as I nearly bagged the peak. I’d been after a first British-woman ascent of Everest and had to settle for the south summit instead.’
She went down to the stream and bathed her feet, as I reflected upon her bravery. Once seated next to me again, she made me recount what had so disturbed me about Dylan’s behaviour to have warranted my emergency phone call.
‘You went up to the tower?! No wonder he was angry!’ She was cursing me, but underneath I detected her concern at the way Dylan had reacted.
She remained pensive as I charted what I’d found in the tower rooms. Eventually, she acknowledged she was extremely worried about him. ‘It also makes my decision all the more difficult. I don’t want to leave him like this.’
‘Leave him?’ I was astonished. ‘You said you never would.’
‘I know what I said. I only mean temporarily. I’ve been in talks with one of my climbing pals from the old days, Jeff. He runs a climbing school in Snowdonia. Similar to mine, only bigger, and for summer and winter climbing. He wants a third partner to set up an Alpine climbing centre in Chamonix. Another friend of ours, Jean-Pierre, has an ideal chalet he’s presently hiring out to skiers. It’d be a great base for a new centre. Jeff wants us all to merge our ventures together to form one big company. It’ll mean placing managers here and in the Welsh centre and living in France for at least the next couple of years.’
‘Dylan won’t like that, will he?’
‘No. I don’t think he will. The plan’s been in the offing since the beginning of the season. But I’ve had to wait till I pay off Dylan’s loan. The last instalment goes out next week.’
‘Feels like you’re running away, too.’
‘No. Just creating a little space. But I’ll be over here regularly enough to see my therapist. And to make sure this place is running smoothly. I’ve put too much of myself into it to let things slide. And he can visit me whenever he likes. I’ll still want a sexual relationship with him. He’ll oblige me and on my terms, I know him too well. I’m looking to place E-J in a boarding school over here, so he can have ready access to her, too.’
‘You seem to have it all planned.’
‘I’m probably going to put pen to paper next week. But I only decided to go ahead with it yesterday. I’ve put a lot of thought into this. I’m not impetuous like the other two. I had to base it on firm business sense.’
‘So the incident with the cavern and my questioning about the Satanists has no bearing on your decision-making?’
Janis tensed up, but she didn’t answer.
So I told her about the film I’d found and Dylan’s disclosure.
‘He and Sera had it easy.’
I endeavoured to entice her to reveal what she knew.
‘No, I’m sorry, Freya. You’ve burrowed into the background of my life – and Dylan’s and Sera’s – far too much already. Is nothing sacred? What do we know about your past, anyway? It’s a blank canvas, compared to what you know about the rest of us. How would you like it if I started forcing you to lay out your own sordid life for me to pick over?’
‘I wouldn’t. I don’t mean to intrude.’
‘Good. Then that’s settled. I lay myself bare to my therapist. That’s where I contain it. And that’s where it’s going to stay.’
E-J and Tara returned then. The latter detailed all the chores E-J had carried out. Janis wrote out a further list of tasks. ‘This should keep you active till bedtime.’
E-J groaned and gazed in my direction.
‘It’s no good looking to her for sympathy. You’re very lucky not to’ve had a spanking. Think about that when you miss the bonfire tonight.’
‘Oh, but Mummy, you know how much I love bonfires! Oh, Freya, please tell her.’
‘No. Mummy is right,’ I said. ‘Let it be a lesson to you.’
‘Oh, I hate the lot of you!’ she screamed and barged past Tara.
Janis made her excuses. She had to meet with a group of instructors to plan for the next day’s activities with the new guests. She left me with instructions to build a bonfire. I spent the next hour wheelbarrowing logs from one of the outbuildings.
Later reports from Tara showed E-J had carried on with her chores as instructed. I now asked E-J to help me build the bonfire, as I felt this would further instil what she’d be missing. She tried to plead with me to let her stay up, but to no avail.
Janis returned long after E-J had retreated to her bedroom. We lit the fire, toasting marshmallows, then laid a grate over the flames to cook a barbecue. As Janis discussed her plans into the evening, I became aware of E-J’s face pressed against the glass of a dormer window. I waved at her, but carried on in conversation with her mother. By nine o’clock, E-J had conceded defeat and disappeared from view; into bed, I hoped.
As the night drew in and the dying embers faded, I dismissed Janis’s earlier entreaties and began to recount the details of the film I’d viewed in the tower.
‘Look, why do you keep on! You’re giving me no peace, damn you! I’ve got plenty more of those reels secreted away. Mother thinks they all got lost in the fire.’
‘The mansion-house fire?’
‘Yes. I assume she must’ve told you. Well, they’re all locked away in a safe-deposit box. What you want to know’s all there. It’ll come out only when I think I’m ready. But it will surface one day, mark my words.’
‘How did you know to rescue the material? Did Eric warn you he was going to torch the house?’
She stared at me with wild eyes and rocked her head back as she let out a guttural laugh. ‘Yes, they all thought it was him, didn’t they?’
She nudged me and took a swig from a beer bottle when I remained nonplussed. ‘It was me! I did it! I hated them all! Mother and Father and all those horrid people! And Sera! She was the special one. She only had one endurance test. Eric and I had a whole childhood of it!’
She began to pace up and down, tugging at her hair, getting increasingly more hysterical. ‘You’re dragging it out of me, like you said you wouldn’t!’
Something compelled me to continue, when I knew I should’ve held back. I ran through all the evidence I had uncovered and from what Dylan had said. Then I mentioned my conversations with Paul Norton.
‘No! No! I believed him at first as well. But no. He was “Crooked Cock”!’
‘What?’
‘He turned out to be one of the bastards all along! I didn’t realize till my wedding night. He raped me then, just like he’d done to me as a kid!’
She ferociously threw her beer bottle at my head. It narrowly missed as I ducked. Once I recovered, I was lost to know where she had gone. Then I saw the white of her leggings disappearing through the opening in the tree house. She stuck her head out of the window. ‘Go away! Leave me alone, you bitch!’
The far-off hum of conversation from the instructors’ partying tailed off and several lights came on in the main building.
I climbed up the ladder and hauled myself into the tree house. It was about seven-foot square, with nursery-rhyme murals painted on the walls. Janis was lying in one corner, in a foetal position, sobbing quietly. I went over to her and crouched down beside her. I intuitively held her in my arms from behind as her emotions flooded forth.
When the tears died away, Janis spoke, automaton-like, isolating her feelings from the remembered events: ‘I invented names for them all. “Crooked Cock”, “Eagle Tattoo”, “Three Moles”, “Big Tits”, “Bad Breath” and so on….Men and women. Twenty, at least….They never spoke to us. Stayed behind their masks like cowards! It only ever happened on eight nights of the year – their blasted “sabbats”. I was always consumed with terror, never knowing if they’d come for me or not. I even had to have a hysterectomy shortly after E-J’s birth, because of the damage those bastards’d caused me….There were other children, too: Au
ntie Agnes’s triplets and four or five other children of my father’s followers. The biggest horror was the waiting as the ceremonies progressed. Never sure whether you would be abused by your father, your mother, the other followers or even their dogs! As the abuse went on, I learnt to divorce my emotional self from the physical self being violated – “dissociation” my therapist calls it.’
Her suffering at the hands of the Satanists overwhelmed me.
When she had finished, and could cry no more, she nestled up to me. She appeared like an innocent child, wanting succour. And I became a willing surrogate mother. As the morning light pierced through the small aperture to awaken me, I found her still attached to me, sleeping on blissfully.
I smiled, not knowing this would be the last time I’d ever see my friend.
- XXV -
A STRANGE STILLNESS gripped the atmosphere within the library, the room which had given me the most comfort since my arrival here. I sat by the fire, reflecting on the real picture of Dylan Quest, and the wider characters surrounding him, I had developed. I had totally mixed feelings now. He had genuinely cared for me. Yet that hadn’t stopped him hurting me through his unfaithfulness and his increasingly erratic behaviour. I was beginning to realize how much my search for the truth by staying with him had taken out of me. I’d learnt so much about the novelist, things which would’ve shocked even the most seasoned tabloid hacks who’d lampooned him for so long.
Now things were drawing to a conclusion. The fascination he had held for me would wane thereafter, I was sure. And I would be able to leave his depraved world behind and get on with my own life.
The final chapter still had to be told. And the only person I thought capable of telling it was Veronica Faversham.
Dylan was up in his ivory tower, putting the final touches to his novel-in-progress. I was sure he’d not disturb us. I’d called Veronica. Now I was simply awaiting her arrival.
Finally she did turn up, in an immaculate Hillman Super Minx. I met her at the door and led her through into the library. She helped herself to a tumbler of single malt whisky, then sat down in a leather armchair opposite me.
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